


The Six Wives of Rhaegar Targaryen

by stillbelieving



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Child Loss, Courtly intrigue, Deceit, Execution, F/M, Incest, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Major Character Injury, Major Original Character(s), Minor Character Death, Miscarriage, Original Character(s), Phantom Pregnancies, Pregnancy, Stillbirth, Targaryen Incest, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:09:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21742738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stillbelieving/pseuds/stillbelieving
Summary: Divorced. Beheaded. Died. Divorced. Beheaded. Survived.Dead Youth. Bloody Terror. Golden Age.Rhaegar Targaryen always believed he was destined for great things, but will this belief cause Rhaegar to go too far?Obsessed with creating the three heads of the dragon and the Prince that was Promised, Rhaegar will take great risks to get what he wants and he will change the history of Westeros forever.
Relationships: Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Cersei Lannister/Rhaegar Targaryen, Edric Storm/Margaery Tyrell, Elia Martell/Rhaegar Targaryen, Gerold Dayne/Arianne Martell, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Petyr Baelish/Catelyn Tully Stark, Quentyn Martell/Rhaenys Targaryen (Daughter of Elia), Renly Baratheon/Arianne Martell, Rhaegar Targaryen/Barbrey Dustin, Rhaegar Targaryen/Catelyn Tully Stark, Rhaegar Targaryen/Margaery Tyrell, Roslin Frey/Rhaegar Targaryen, Theon Greyjoy/Margaery Tyrell, Visenya Targaryen/Jaime Lannister
Comments: 20
Kudos: 34





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> This is a retelling of actual events with the characters and settings of ASOIAF. 
> 
> Tudor History has been a passion of mine and I hope you enjoy!

280 AC

Rhaegar Targaryen had loved his father once.

  
Once upon a time Aerys Targaryen was a loving man- a bit selfish, but he had always had his families best interests at heart. But the Crown had turned him into a demon and a tyrant. A man that Rhaegar swore he would never become. Aerys was a shell of his former self, he was terribly thin, his eyes protruded out of his skull and his veins were horribly visible. His teeth were yellow as were his nails which were long and gnarled. He was paranoid and never left the safety of the castle and ventured into the sunlight so his skin was sickly pale.

  
As Rhaegar looked at his dying father, he mourned for the man he used to be, but he was glad this new creature was leaving this world. Still Rhaegar mourned for all the years lost where he could've received counsel from his father that wasn't offensive to others and dangerous for the country. He remembered when his father had found him reading once when he was still a boy. He had acknowledged Rhaegar's love for books, but warned him that he needed to find a balance.

 _"Being a learned man is exceedingly important for a king."_ he'd said, _"But a king must also be a knight for his people, a protector with his sword as well as his wit."_ Rhaegar had taken his words to heart and had picked up a sword the next day. Now, however, the only advice Aerys had for him was the same words he'd been spewing for the past hour.

"Do not marry the Dornish whore Rhaegar!" his father wheezed. "She will bring ruin to this family, I know it! I know everything! I-" Rhaegar stopped listening as his father flew into another coughing fit. After years of being betrothed to Elia, Rhaegar was used to this. His father had been very fickle in regards to his marriage. One day he would think allying with the Dornish was the smartest idea he'd ever had while other times he would loath the idea of Rhaegar ever been bound to someone of Dornish heritage. Rhaegar didn't mind him he had every intention of disregarding every word this new Aerys ever spoke to him when he became King.

Rhaegar sighed as his father flew into another fit of rage over something or another and got up and left the room without turning back at his father. That would be the last time he saw him, for by the next morning. King Aerys Targaryen, second of his name, was dead.

The funeral was quiet as no one mourned the now dead king. They were eager for their new king to be crowned and their old one forgotten. Rhaegar gave the country only a week of mourning before he began preparations for a coronation which was to take place in two weeks. They would be a grand feast as well as three days of jousting. However Rhaegar had other things he had to do before he could be coronated.

"Boy," he called to his serving boy. The boy scurried towards him and bowed, waiting for his instructions. "Fetch me Jon Connington,"

He intended to reward his faithful friend and replace some of his father's councillors. This was killing two birds with one stone.  
Rhaegar was pulling out two goblets from his shelf and a pitcher of wine when Connington entered the room. He friend bowed respectfully and muttered a 'Your Grace' before sitting in the seat Rhaegar left for him. They made small talk and enjoyed their wine before Rhaegar got to the point.

"You've been a very faithful friend to me Jon, for many years." he commented his indigo eyes on Jon, watching his reaction. His friend nodded eagerly.

"Your Grace I love you more than any other, you know that," Rhaegar nodded.

"That's why I've decided to appoint you as my Hand of the King. I can trust no other and I need you by my side, do you accept?" Rhaegar watched amused as his friends jaw dropped and his face grew red, matching the shade of his hair. He couldn't hold back a chuckle as Jon started to sputter and then, remembering himself, stood to his feet and knelt before his sovereign.

"Your Grace is too kind! I do not deserve such honors! I am unworthy." Rhaegar stood and brought his friend back to his feet.

"Nonsense Jon, you are a smart man and I trust you with my life, I know you won't disappoint me." His friend once again nodded eagerly, his shaggy red hair falling to his face due to his enthusiasm.

"Good," Rhaegar said, "Now there is something I need you to arrange for me." Jon looked at his friend and lord quizzically, waiting for his charge.

"I need you to prepare a small wedding ceremony for me. Something private with a few witnesses and a small feast held afterwards. Can you do that?"

"Absolutely my liege, but who are you marrying?" he asked suspicious. Rhaegar smiled sympathetically at his friend and that was all Connington needed before he came to the realization.

"No!" he shouted, completely dropping any formality a lord should to present to his king. "Rhaegar, please tell me you aren't marrying who I think you're marrying! You're king now you can marry anybody you like!"

"Jon I made a promise before the Gods that I would marry Elia, and nobody is going to make me break that. Not you, not my father, not even His Holiness could make me drop my vow." he said solemnly. In truth he felt pity for Elia. He knew her heart and knew she was a strong and kind woman, but over the years she'd been subjected to much ridicule due to his father's dislike of her and her frailty. People believed she wasn't strong enough to be Queen, but Rhaegar believed in her, he knew that she would be a wonderful queen and he wanted to give her the chance to prove it.

"But-"

"No Jon, I'm going to marry her and that's final. Do you want me to find someone else to arrange my wedding if you can't handle yourself?" He hated to threaten his friends but they, Jon especially, had to learn their place. He was no longer Prince of Dragonstone, he was their sovereign and lord and his word was final.

"Absolutely not my king! I will arrange the wedding and feast, you can count on me." Jon proclaimed. He was indignant just at the thought of someone else being trusted enough to do this for _his_ king.

"Good, also prepare an announcement for our impending wedding in the Great Hall, I want it the week before the coronation, and please bring me the Princess Elia." It was important for Rhaegar to receive her approval of their union, whether they were betrothed or not.

"Yes, Your Grace." With that, Jon rushed out of the room to begin his duties. Rhaegar sighed and sank down in his chair. Governing was going to be hard.

Elia was always pious, she loved her religion and found comfort and safety in prayer. If one couldn't find her they could always look in the Sept and nine times out of ten, she would be there.

  
Such was true now as Elia knelt before the maiden in the Great Sept of Baelor. She lit a candle before bowing her head in prayer.

 _"Virtuous Maiden, please deliver me to a husband a good and noble lord who will love me and cherish me. Oh glorious Maiden, please deliver me to the king so that I might prosper as a queen and deliver all the world unto you and your counterparts."_ Elia clutched her prayer book and rainbow rosary as she moved on to the mother.

 _"Gentle and merciful mother, please allowing me to have a fertile and healthy womb for my husband so that I may deliver many healthy sons and daughters, and protect me from the horrors of birth."_ Elia then knelt before the Crone.

 _"Oh wise Lady Crone, please give me the wisdom and guidance to be a great lady and queen to these Seven Kingdoms, should the gods grant me the hand of the king in marriage."_ Elia made the cross of the seven-pointed star before she rose. As she turned she was greeted by the sight of the impatient Lord Jon Connington. When he noticed she was done he gave her a shallow bow and she acknowledged him with a nod of her head.

"My lord Connington, to what do I owe the pleasure?" she inquired. It was no secret that the red-headed lord despised her, so he must be on business for the king as he would never seek her out himself.

"Princess, the King would like to see you in his office chamber." he said sullenly. Elia felt her heart fill with hope. _"Finally,"_ she thought, _"My destiny will come true."_  
She gave a quick nod to the sullen lord and rushed to Maegor's Holdfast to see her king. _Her king._ Elia giggled to herself a magnificent smile only her lovely face.

 _"Surely the king will ask me to marry him,"_ she mused, _"He knows that I will make a wonderful queen, that I am ordained by the gods to be his queen."_ Elia almost started skipping she was so giddy.

As she reached the king's presence she dropped down in an elegant curtsey, her head bowed as she waited for his permission to rise. She panicked slightly as he took longer than usual to raise her but her fears were soon allayed as she was greeted with a pair of fine leather boots. The king gentle grabbed her by the shoulders and raised her, his touch sending shivers down her spine.

"Your Grace," she began, "I am honored to be in your presence,"

"My sweet princess, I have called for you because I have an important question for you," he began slowly as if he didn't want to scare her. Elia smiled coyly at him.

"I may have an answer, Your Grace." she flirted. Rhaegar laughed, a beautiful sound that make her heart skip a beat.

"I wanted to ask if you would do me the honor of becoming my wife and queen," he said gently, his indigo eyes boring into her black ones. Elia smiled a heart-wrenching smiled as tears filled her eyes though she wouldn't let them fall.

"Oh Rhaegar, a million times, yes!" His usual sullen face transformed into a glorious smile as he wrapped his arms around her.

"You have made me a very happy man Elia," he declared, lifting her small frame and twirling her about.

"When shall we be wed?" she asked eagerly. She could not wait to be his wife and she would be counting down the days until their wedding.

"Next week, and then we shall have a joint coronation. I want you to have every happiness Elia. Anything you want and it's yours." Elia's heart melted at his words and the gentle look in his eye. She had known she was in love with Rhaegar since she first laid eyes on him, she never dreamed that he would reciprocate her feelings.

"Just being with you makes me the happiest woman alive." This time, she let the tears fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For plot purposes I have altered Aerys' death to 280AC


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wedding takes place and Elia gets a glimpse of what's in store for her.

**280 AC**

Tywin Lannister was furious.

_ “How dare he?”  _ he fumed,  _ “How dare he give  _ my  _ office to that incompetent upstart!” _

“Father?” a sweet voice said from behind him. He turned in his chair to gaze upon his young daughter. Cersei was a lovely maid of fourteen, with her mothers golden hair and emerald green eyes.  _ “She should be queen instead of that frail Dornish bitch.”  _

“Cersei.” he greeted gruffly. “Are you packed?”

“Yes father, but why are we leaving?” Cersei pouted. She loved court and didn’t want to go home to her stupid baby brother… and Jaime was here.

“The king has made Jon Connington the Hand of the King,” Cersei’s eyes widened. 

“What?! Impossible! Father you are the best Hand anyone could ever ask for! Why would he dismiss you?” 

“He has decided that I’ve served the realm long enough and deserve to rest at home.” Tywin rolled his eyes as he recalled the pitying look the Targaryen had given him. As if he, Tywin Lannister, needed any pitying.

“What are you going to do?” Cersei was still shocked and distressed.

“I am going to Casterly Rock, but I will not be ‘resting’ as the king puts it.” he declared.

“What will you be doing?” Cersei’s asked curiously.

“I will be planning, I did promise you a crown did I not?” At this, his daughter’s eyes gleamed with mischief and admiration of her father. 

“Oh father, do you mean it?” 

“I always keep my promises, the Dornish will not hold the throne long. For now we will leave quietly and let them think they’re safe, but we will come back strong. Now, go get ready we depart in an hour.” Cersei smiled at him and dipped a low curtsey. 

“Yes, father.”

Elia was nervous, that much was evident. Ashara Dayne regarded her friend as she fidgeted in her gown of white silk and her maiden cloak with the yellow and orange sun and spear of House Martell. Elia ran her thin fingers along her gown as she paced, flattening phantom wrinkles. 

“Ashara,” she snapped, “I need another ring on my finger, no! I need to tighten my corset! And I need-”

“You need a drink.” Ashara smiled at her mistress’ nervous energy, guiding her to a chair by the window that gave a beautiful view of Blackwater Bay. She filled a goblet up for her friend and watched as she chugged it down, almost in one gulp. 

“Better?” she asked.

“Better.” Elia sighed. Ashara went about fixing her friend’s hair, which lay about her shoulders in a mass of black curls with a crown of white and orange jewels on her head. 

“Don’t get so worked up, El. You’ve been waiting practically your whole life for this moment. Enjoy it.” 

“You’re right Ash, I’m just so worried something might go wrong! As you said I’ve waited so long for this. Everything has to be perfect.” Ashara smiled admiring her friend.

“Elia everything will be fine, even if the wedding is a disaster-” At this Elia made a noise of protest, “-all that matters is that afterwards you’ll be able to call yourself the Queen of Westeros, wife of Rhaegar Targaryen.”

“Wife of Rhaegar Targaryen,” Elia said dreamily, her lashing fluttering and a faraway look in her eyes.

“Exactly.” Ashara smirked in triumph. The two dark haired girls turned their heads as a newcomer burst through the door. Oberyn Martell swaggered into the room, walking as if he owned the entire castle. He was dressed in a remarkable ensemble of orange and black, looking every inch the Martell prince. He had a natural smirk on his face but his eyes lit up as he saw his lovely sister.

“Elia…” For once The Red Viper was lost for words. Elia gave a twirl for her brother smirking at him.

“What do you think Oberyn? Do I look the queen?” 

“You look more than the queen, sweet sister.” Oberyn pulled his elder sister in for a hug. “You are The Maiden reborn.” Elia laughed as her brother flashed her a grin.

“Now you made me forget what I came here for! It’s time.” At this everyone grew serious.

“Then lead me brother, and please, don’t let me fall.” Elia gave him her arm which he gallantly twined with his.

“Never.” he vowed. 

The Great Sept of Baelor was beautiful. It was decorated beautifully for the wedding, with many candles surrounding The Mother and Father and the sun, which was shining, made the colored glass windows expel an array of colors across the aisles. Oberyn slowly led Elia through the aisle where her future husband waited. 

Rhaegar looked almost unnaturally beautiful. His straight silver-gold hair lay along his shoulders going down his back and almost glowed in the light. His was clad in the customary black and red of his house, with a three-headed dragon across his chest. Elia had never felt so blessed.

_ “The gods smile upon me. I am indeed blessed.”  _

Oberyn placed her hand in the king’s and backed away to stand a few paces behind her. Elia couldn’t take her eyes away from Rhaegar as the Septon preached. The ceremony was a blur for her, and soon she was back in the Red Keep on a raised dais with her husband.  _ Her husband.  _ Elia found it impossible to keep the smile off her face.

“A dance, my queen?” She looked to Rhaegar who had stood and was facing her with his hand outstretched. She smiled at him as he led her to the dance floor, the courtiers parting for their King and Queen.

“Tell me, are you happy Elia? Truly?” Rhaegar asked her as they reached their second dance.

“I don’t think I could ever be more happy, Rhaegar.” he smiled at her, that beautiful smile that made her heart skip a beat. 

“I’m glad, though I must tell you, you have an important role to play now.” Elia furrowed her brow.

“What do you mean?”

“Elia, this made sound ridiculous to you, but the fate of the world rests in our hands now. The dragon has three heads. Always remember do you understand.” There was something desperate in Rhaegar’s eyes, something that made Elia uncomfortable.

“I don’t know what you mean Rhaegar..”

“Three heads.” Was all he said. Elia suddenly felt that perhaps marrying Rhaegar was a bad idea.

_ “Nonsense.”  _ she chided herself,  _ “Nothing could be better. The gods hath ordained me to be the true Queen of Westeros and I will do my duty. Rhaegar is probably tired, it has been a long day.”  _

However much she tried though, Elia wasn’t convinced.

Rhaegar basked in the afterglow of his and Elia’s lovemaking. He smiled as he gazed down at her, she had fallen asleep quickly after, obviously exhausted. He brushed a strand of silky black hair out of her face. His fingers trailed down and he prayed that a child was already growing there. “ _ A son or daughter. The first of three.” _ He smiled.

He had always believed House Targaryen was destined for greatness. Over the years, his house had fallen, the Targaryens were nothing more than a joke, a shell of their former selves. Rhaegar was determined to set things right, and when he was but a boy he found something that would change his life forever.

In the depths of the Red Keep’s library he found an old scroll, in it detailing the coming of the Long Night and the Great Other. He read of the Prince that was Promised,  _ born admist salt and smoke,  _ that would save the world from darkness. He had thought that  _ he  _ was the promised prince, after all he had been born during the Tragedy of Summerhall, but he was mistaken. He had an entirely different role to play, for it would be his seed that would bring forth the prince, there was no way it could be Viserys, the four year old prince was already taking after their father. 

No, Rhaegar would be the father of the promised prince and the three heads. Him and Elia. He smiled lovingly as he looked down at her. “ _ My beautiful wife.”  _

Rhaegar had adored Elia for a long time. They had exchanged letters as youths and he was able to pick up on who she was. She was smart, kind and fierce, as well as passionate. She was also of very strong faith. All were aspects that made her a perfect mother to the saviors of their world.

_ And if she failed… Well... _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Naturally the Lions of Lannister are already plotting ;) 
> 
> Like Catherine of Aragon, Elia truthfully believes that she has been chosen by the gods to be Queen and nothing, not even Rhaegar's uncomfortable ramblings, will change her mind.
> 
> Historical fact: Before her marriage to Henry VIII his father, Henry VII, actually considered marrying Catherine of Aragon himself...
> 
> Luckily, her father, King Ferdinand, shut that idea down. 
> 
> Next: A royal birth


	3. III

**281 AC**

Rhaella Targaryen was by no means an old woman, but she still felt as if she had lived a long and hard life. At a young age she had always been mindful of her duty as a royal princess and always suspected that no matter how much she loathed the idea, she would one day have to marry her brother. And marry him she did for when Jenny of Oldstones had led a woods witch in to court, and when said woods witch opened her mouth to start spewing tales of princes from the line of her and Aerys, her father wasted no time in organizing their marriage. Her life had been dictated by her duty and now, it seemed, it was dictated by prophecy. Since then Rhaella tried her hardest to avoid the topic of prophecy, but it seemed no matter how hard she tried she could never get rid of it. 

Her son, her dear Rhaegar, was one such reason. He had spoken of the prophecy that had led to her accursed marriage and he believed in it profusely, and such was her sons belief that Rhaella could do nothing to change it. 

She loved her sons, with all her heart, but she feared for them. She fears that the Targaryen legacy may prove too much for them. Some of their forefathers and even their own father were too weak to handle the weight of the Crown of Aegon the Conqueror, and many people fell with them. Rhaella can still remember the public executions she was forced to bear witness to by her brother and husband, she can remember the mad gleam in his eye as he watched their flesh melt from their bones and heard their desperate screams. Rhaella shuddered. 

_ “That is the past. I must focus on the future. If they are not strong enough to handle the legacy, then I will help them grow stronger. I must be their guide, I will not lose my sons to the power of madness.”  _ She gazed down at her heavily pregnant belly. 

_ “Nor you my sweet dragon. You will prosper and live and I swear the weight of House Targaryen’s legacy will  _ not  _ destroy you.”  _

Rhaella could breathe easier now that Aerys was gone, though he left her a gift. When she discovered her pregnancy she prayed that the child would live. It seemed that the death of her husband, and the freedom from his clutches, was the cure her for lack of issue. This one was the easiest she had ever had and Rhaegar treated her so well. As Dowager Queen she had everything she could ever need.

_ “Everything I need for my baby to grow strong.”  _ she thought rubbing the large bump,  _ “I can relax now. I have no need of worry.”  _ she smiled sadly.

She was a mother. She would always worry.

At this point, Aerys had been dead for almost nine moon turns and they had already reached the new year. Any day now Rhaella would give birth and she was elated, but she was also terrified. If she lost her life now then no one of her blood would be left to guide her children. Rhaegar has just become King and Viserys was still so young, not to mention the child growing in her now. 

Rhaella was taken out of her musings by a loud bang coming from her outer chamber. Confused, she rose to order the guards to investigate, but before she could so much as take one step a little silver-haired boy was running into the room.

“Mother look! I am a dragon! Balerion the Black Dread!” Viserys yelled as he ran in. He raised his arms and made his hands look claw like. He was clad in all black, with a black cloak pinned with a three headed dragon brooch. Rhaella chuckled at the sight of his strange pose.

“Indeed my strong dragon, you are terrifying to behold!” 

“I made a dragon pit in the outer chamber. Dragons need a resting place and Rhaegar said I can’t sleep in the dragon pit on the hill, which I think is unfair, so I made my own!” he was jumping up and down, his lilac eyes glowing with excitement.

“Will you show me your home then, mighty dragon?” she asked him amused.

“Yes!” And without warning he dashed to the outer chambers where she received her guests. Rhaella followed, an amused smile on her lips. When she opened the door and beheld the clutter of the room, it took everything in her not to laugh. There were chairs, pillows, furs, even tapestries and a few candleholders all arranged in a circle in the middle of the floor under the circular table. There was a pathway for her son to crawl through so that he could reside under the table which he did now, crouching low and spreading his cloak wide to resemble wings. She laughed aloud as he flapped his arms wildly. He was adorable when he was playing, and since Aerys died he has become more carefree, no longer worrying about constantly presenting himself as a son of a king. Instead he was the brother of a king and he could do whatever he wanted.

“I am a very scary dragon mother and I shall burn all our enemies!” the smile fell off of her face when she heard that. The sentence sounded too similar to something Aerys would say for her comfort.  _ “Aerys has already gotten ahold of him,”  _ she despaired.  _ “I am too late, now he will grow mad like the others.”  _

_ “No.”  _ she thought.  _ “He is just a child, don’t be irrational.”  _ Still, she was determined to take measures to make sure Viserys didn’t grow to be like her father. It was time for a lesson.

“Viserys my sweet, who is it that is so deserving of a dragons deadly flame?” she asked him gently, lowering her heavily pregnant body so she could be eye-level with him. 

“Everyone who speaks against us mother! They will fear us! Father said so!” he spoke wildly.

“Your father didn’t mean that darling he was just angry. Real princes want their people to love them. Wouldn’t you rather they loved you?” At this his face grew confused and he pouted.

“Love mother? But dragons are scary, aren’t they?” 

“Yes, my love, dragons are scary. But they are also gentle with the ones they love. As the royal family, we must love our people and treat them gently so that they will love us too. But, we must also make sure they are aware that we are scary enough to be punish them only if we need to. Do you understand?” he seemed to be contemplating her words, his little silver eyebrows scrunched together. 

“I think so. If they love us will they always listen to us and be loyal?” Rhaella nodded her head. It was not exactly so, but he was still young enough that he had time to remain ignorant to the cruelties of the world, such as betrayal.

“But we must punish those who are naughty to show them that we can also be scary?” he continued. She beamed at him in approval. His lilac eyes lit up with delight at her praise.

“Very good my little dragon. You are so smart. Why don’t you take your nurse and go get a sweet from the kitchen?” at this he scrambled out from under the table and wrapped his little arms around her shoulders.

“Yes mother, thank you!” and with that he ran out of the room, passing a bewildered Ser Jaime. Rhaella smiled, glad that she had been able to influence her son’s mind in the right direction, while maintaining his innocence. The world was a dangerous place, but she wanted him to have a happy childhood to look back on.

Rhaella struggled to get up from her kneeled position and called for the help of Ser Jaime. The golden-haired knight came to lift her and steadied her when she wobbled. He was just about to let go of her hand when she gripped it tighter, in shock at the familiar feeling going through her. 

“Ser Jaime, my water has broken. Please help me to my bed and send for the midwives.” Ser Jaime’s eyes widened in alarm at her words, but although he was obviously panicked he carried out his duties swiftly. As soon as she was comfortably in bed she smiled, despite herself.

_ “I will see you soon my little dragon.” _

-

Rhaegar smiled at his wife as she sat in the gardens with her ladies. Elia was growing well into her role as Queen Consort. She was efficient in her duties and constantly had the servants busy at work. The nobles admired her, and though there would always be people who didn’t like her, they still could not complain about the way she conducted herself. The smallfolk loved her as well, she was very charitable and kind, and had already started projects to improve the lives of the less fortunate. 

However, the most wonderful thing that she accomplished, was the small bump growing under her dress. 

Two moons after their wedding, Elia had announced she was with child. Rhaegar had been overjoyed. He was eager to start a family and increase the number of Targaryens in the world, but he was also eager to hold a child in his arms and know that it was the result of the love that had blossomed between him and his wife. 

Rhaegar was already head over heels in love with Elia, and at times he didn’t know how he had ever lived without her. She was the perfect companion, and she always knew when he needed a helping hand and when he needed to be alone. He wasn’t used to having someone he was able to rely on, but Elia proved more than capable of shouldering both of their issues.

“Look Your Grace, The King!” one of Elia’s ladies, from the Reach he assumed, alerted her of his presence. Elia turned her dark head to look at him and Rhaegar was stunned by her. 

Pregnancy gave Elia a wonderful glow that made her look much healthier than before. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparkled. Gracefully, she rose from her chair and came to greet him, dropping teasingly into a curtsey.

“None of that, my love. I’ve come with good news.” he announced and pulled her into an embrace, placing a kiss on her forehead.

“Oh? What is it?” 

“My mother has given birth to a baby girl. She has named her Daenerys.” Elia eyes widened and she gasped in shock and happiness.

“That is wondrous news! I am so happy for her. Will she receive visitors?” she began to walk in the direction of Maegor’s Holdfast, but he grabbed her gently by the elbow to stop her.

“She is sleeping, the birth was difficult for her and little Daenerys is with her wetnurse.” he explained. He watched as she grew disappointed before her face brightened again, her black eyes sparkling like diamonds.

“Well, we should throw a celebration for the new addition to the family. How about a feast? When your mother feels better of course.” 

“I think she will like that.” he replied, wrapping his arms around her again. 

“Good, I will start planning as soon as possible. Oh Rhaegar, this is so exciting! Perhaps our children will grow up and be friends!” she bounced excitedly in his arms and he couldn’t help but chuckle at her childlike expression. Pregnancy, it seemed, also made Elia have bizarre moods where she would become more silly and act less like the mature princess she had been raised to be. Rhaegar thought she was adorable.

“Perhaps, now you should go rest sweetheart. You need all the energy you can get for our child to grow.” he chuckled at the pout on her face.

“But Rhaegar!” she whined, though he knew she was only teasing. “I want to stay with you.” He frowned. He hadn’t been able to spend as much time with her as he wished to lately. He was busy with instructing certain renovations so as to better serve him as King, so he could better serve the Realm.

“I’m sorry, my love. I have business to attend to. I will join you for dinner, I promise.” she sighed, disappointed.

“Very well, I will see you later.” she gave him a kiss on the cheek before she departed, her uncle, Ser Lewyn following her. Rhaegar sighed before making his way to the small council chamber. 

Since his father’s death, he has tried to do away with many of the members who had been excessively loyal to his father, and others who he felt were too overbearing. He had replaced Lord Tywin Lannister with his close friend, Jon Connington, as Hand of the King when he ascended the Throne, but it was proving difficult to replace others on the small council. He longed to find someone to replace the current Master of Whisperers, Lord Varys, but he couldn’t deny that the man was good at his job and until he found someone better, he was stuck with him.

Lord Staunton and Lord Chelsted were troublesome as well. They were completely loyal to his father and hadn’t hesitated to fuel the flames of suspicion the late king held for Rhaegar. Lucerys Velaryon, Gerold Hightower, and Grand Maester Pycelle were the only people he was content with. Lord Velaryon was loyal to House Targaryen no matter who was in charge, and Ser Gerold had always taken his vows very seriously. The Grand Maester was a little slow, but he carried out his duties well enough.

The room was uncomfortably quiet when he entered. They were all seated at the long table in the same order they had been since before his father’s death. Jon to his right, with Ser Gerold beside him and Lord Varys beside him. On the opposite side was Lord Velaryon to his left with the Grand Maester beside him and Lord Staunton and Chelsted seated next to each other. Rhaegar quickly took his seat and began.

“My lords, thank you for arriving. How is the Dowager Queen, Grand Maester?” 

“The Dowager Queen’s delivery went well, Your Grace. She should recover swiftly.” the Grand Maester wheezed. Rhaegar raised his eyebrows in surprise at the elderly.

“I had heard that she wasn’t doing quite so well Maester. Am I to believe that she has recovered since I last saw her?”

“Yes, Your Grace. I am confident that her grace should live.” he affirmed.

“Very well. Lord Chelsted, my queen wants to throw a feast to celebrate the new addition to the royal family. I trust we have the funds to achieve this?” the Master of Coin frowned disapprovingly, but nodded nonetheless. 

“Yes, we should have enough coin Your Grace.” Rhaegar nodded, though he already knew this. His father, in his suspicion, had not spent much and had accumulated a massive amount of wealth over the years. 

“Very good. Jon I wish for you to write a list of guests to send to the Queen for approval.” His friend bowed his head in acknowledgement. Rhaegar turned to address the others.

“Now, my lords, how are the other kingdoms faring?” 

“The Westerlands have grown very quiet since Lord Tywin’s departure, Your Grace. I fear the Old Lion may be up to something.” the Master of Laws, Symond Staunton offered.

“I have heard nothing of the sort, Your Grace!” Pycelle objected. 

“Why do you suspect this, my lord?” he addressed Lord Staunton, completely ignoring the maester’s outburst.

“If I may, Your Grace?” Lord Chelsted asked. Rhaegar gestured for him to continue. “Trade with House Lannister has slowly been depleting. It wasn’t enough to be noticeable at first, but this moon we have received only three-fourths of the gold own to us and less than half of the seafare we agreed on. We have sent out our part of the agreement, but we aren’t receiving our share.” Rhaegar blinked in surprise. 

“Why wasn’t I alerted of this?”

“As I said Your Grace, it wasn’t enough to be concerning. We had assumed the lack of product was due to a shortage, but the numbers this time are alarming.” Lord Chelsted assured.

“Hmm, what do you suggest we do?” Rhaegar questioned.

“If I may, my king?” Jon spoke up from his right. Rhaegar nodded. “I was thinking that perhaps we could just cut of trade ties completely with the West and open up trade with a House we aren’t connected with already?” Before Rhaegar could answer, Grand Maester Pycelle stood up in outrage. 

“This is preposterous! Your Grace, the trade with the West is absolutely necessary. We can not to afford cut ties!” Rhaegar narrowed his eyes at him, but otherwise did not saying anything.

“We must show the Lannisters that they cannot trifle with us, Grand Maester!” Jon retorted. 

“Who else could we trade with that would provide us with efficient enough funds?” Lord Velaryon questioned, brushing over the argument. Pycelle plopped back in his seat in a huff as everyone focused their attention on Jon.

“I have been pondering this for a while, my lords. I assumed Tywin Lannister might pull something like this, and I realized that the Westerlands contributes a lot to the Crown. I propose we align ourselves with a different House. The Starks.” complete silence followed Jon’s statement. Everyone took a minute to ponder this, save the Grand Maester who looked as if he was ready to disagree.

“And what could the North offer us?” Lord Commander Hightower spoke for the first time. 

“The North has an abundance of wood. Surprisingly, they don’t take the opportunity to trade with the Free Cities that lack wood. We could offer them some of the harvests that we produce and some that we receive from House Tyrell in exchange for that wood which we then could sell. Furthermore, House Manderly resides in White Harbour which is a port city in the north. We could also offer them food in return for the fish we need.” Jon advised.

“I like this idea.” Lord Velaryon was the first to speak up. 

“I admit this is a good idea, my lord.” Ser Gerold praised. 

“There is a problem,” Lord Varys chimed in. “We are not sure if House Manderly will need the food we intend to trade. They already receive plenty from their other trade deals.” Rhaegar’s raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Other trade deals?” he questioned.

“Yes, Your Grace,” Varys answered. “White Harbour has many trade deals with other kingdoms in the South that they receive food from, Dorne for example. We would have to include in our agreement with the Warden of the North that we want fish from White Harbour.” 

“We are asking for a lot, Your Grace. We have very little to offer.” Lord Chelsted remarked. Rhaegar pondered this.

“Lord Varys, does House Stark have any daughters of an age with Viserys? Perhaps they will be more inclined if we offer marriage with the royal family.” he questioned. Varys smiled sadly at him.

“Lord Rickard does have one daughter, Your Grace, Lady Lyanna. Unfortunately she has already reached ten years and is too old for Viserys.” Rhaegar frowned.

“Perhaps we can offer a spot as one of Elia’s ladies-in-waiting.” Lord Velaryon proposed. 

“A good idea, my lord. Lord Rickard seems interested in procuring alliances with the South. He has already betrothed his heir to Hoster Tully’s eldest daughter. If we promise him that we will find a good match for his daughter with a southern lord he may agree.” Lord Varys said. Rhaegar liked this idea.

“Very well. Jon I want you to send a raven to Lord Stark with our offer.” He rose from his seat. “Thank you my lords, I bid you good day.” 

They all bowed their heads. “Your Grace.” 

Rhaegar quickly made his exit. He wanted to check in with his mother before joining Elia for supper. He barely made it down the hall before he was interrupted by Jon.

“Your Grace, may I speak to you for a minute.” Rhaegar sighed in annoyance. 

“Yes Jon?”

“We need to do something about Pycelle.” he said bluntly, “He is obvious a Lannister supporter if nor ally. We need to get rid of him before he does something dangerous.” 

“Jon, I can’t just get rid of him for no reason. He does his job well enough.” he told his hot-headed friend. He shouldn’t be surprised that Jon would speak so bluntly about this.

“You’re the king, you can get rid of anyone you like. I fear he will be persuaded by those Lannisters to do something that will jeopardize your reign.” he retorted. 

“Jon, I don’t want to speak of this right now. Pycelle will stay until he becomes useless. We need his talents right now. Elia shall deliver in a few moons.” 

“But-”

“Enough Jon,” he said sternly, the look he gave him leaving no room for argument. Jon sputtered angrily before he dropped a mocking bow.

“As you wish...Your Grace.” he spat stormed away, his cloak flying behind him. Rhaegar huffed, frustrated.

Little did he know, he would come to regret this moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have changed Lyanna's birthdate to 270AC.
> 
> Jon Connington is described as reckless and hot-headed in his youth which I have tried to capture, but I also wanted to portray him as a smart and able politician. This is due to the fact that I have essential combined his character with the skills of Cardinal Wolsey and Thomas Cromwell who served as Lord Chancellor under Henry VIII.
> 
> I included the scene with Rhaella and Viserys because I am going to portray Viserys as more level-headed than he was in canon. I wanted to show you how that is going to be achieved. 
> 
> The story is has been moving pretty slow, but it will pick up next chapter.
> 
> Next chapter: We meet the Wolves of Winterfell.


	4. IV

**281 AC**

The day was bleaker than average Northern days when Lyanna Stark got ready to leave her childhood home. Winterfell had been her home for her whole life and it was difficult for her to let it go. Rickard noticed that she had been almost as quiet as her big brother Ned these past few weeks ever since the raven from King’s Landing arrived. 

That day had been beautiful. The sun was out, which was a rare occurrence in the North. He had been on the bridge between the armory and the Great Keep overlooking the courtyard, watching his children running around and playing. They had been running, waving training swords and hitting each other in mock swordplay when Maester Walys had approached him, parchment in hand with the red three-headed dragon of House Targaryen shining in the sunlight. Rickard had felt the blood drain from his face as soon as he read the contents within. The King wanted a trade deal and in return he would foster Lyanna as a lady to the Queen. He had wanted to turn the offer down immediately, but Maester Walys had told him the benefit of such an arrangement. Lyanna would be able to blossom into a true lady under the Queen’s eye and she would be able to find a good match in the South. 

So Rickard had informed his children of the decision and Lyanna had not been pleased, so much he could tell. Yet, she hadn’t raged at him like he expected. She gracefully accepted his decision, so he had come to the conclusion that perhaps she wasn’t completely upset with going south. 

Now she was about to depart Winterfell with her retinue of guards and handmaids, and Rickard knew that the next time he saw her she would be a woman grown. 

Lyanna smiled as she approached him, her grey eyes filled with sadness. Benjen was stuck by her side like a shadow, a sullen expression on his face.

“Papa.” Lyanna greeted. She was dressed in a fine blue Northern riding gown, her hair pulled back in two braids. 

“Lyanna, I am very proud of you. You have handled everything very well.” he praised. She still had yet to make a fuss about her new position.

“Thank you, father. I am...very grateful for this opportunity. I…” she trailed off, seeming as though she no longer knew what to say.

“It’s alright my dear. I know you will be happy one day. Have faith.” Lyanna seemed to be contemplating his words before she nodded slowly. He opened his arms and engulfed her in one last hug before she left. She turned and gathered Benjen in one last hug. Brandon and Ned were fostering so she wouldn’t be able to tell them goodbye in person, but she had sent them each a letter detailing her new arrangement.

Rickard watched sadly as his only daughter rode through the gates of Winterfell. To say he was proud of her was an understatement and he couldn’t wait to see the day when she would finally be settled as the Lady of a Great House.

**

Lyanna wasn’t overly happy about leaving Winterfell, but strangely, she wasn’t angry either. She knew her leaving Winterfell was going to happen someday, and her very nature pushed against the idea of her settling down as a lady to a keep. She had other plans, and though she was only a girl of ten she could see the potential of accepting her new position.

As a lady to the Queen, she would be able to blossom into a true lady that much was true. Yet, some of the finest warriors of Westeros resided in King’s Landing. Ser Arthur Dayne, Ser Barristan the Bold, even the King was good with a sword. Lyanna knew if she learned the flirtations and charms of a southron lady, she could very well be able to incite a man to teach her the skill of sword fighting.

Ever since she learned how to read she had been fond of the tales of warrior women like Visenya Targaryen and Jonquil Darke, who had been Queen Alysanne’s sworn shield. Such women Westeros hadn’t seen in centuries, and Lyanna was determined to become a fighter. She refused to be limited by her sex, there was no law stating that woman couldn’t become warrior. The ladies of Bear Island learned to defend themselves and their lands and so would she. What better place than the capital?

_ “Yes,”  _ Lyanna thought, smiling for the first time since she departed the gates of Winterfell,  _ “The time will come. I, Lyanna Stark.”  _

Elia had never known such pain. Her body felt as if it was closing in on itself and she was powerless to stop it. All she could do was scream and cry as her insides pushed and pulled against her. Her throat felt sore from all her screaming and her hand was gripping onto something so hard she feared her bones might break. 

“Your Grace, you must breathe. You are doing wonderful.” the midwife assured her. A handmaid placed a wet cloth on her forehead whilst another rubbed soothingly on her overgrown belly. 

“It hurts!” she wailed. “I can’t- I can’t-” 

“You can.” a familiar voice spoke from her left. She opened her eyes and was surprised to see her goodmother sitting there. She must have been so out of it she hadn’t realized that it was Rhaella’s hand she had been squeezing. “You are strong Elia. You can do it.” 

“It hurts!” she wailed again, squeezing her eyes shut in pain as another contraction came.

“I know it hurts, but it will all be worth it when you hold your child in your arms,” her goodmother whispered. Elia nodded. Yes that was what she was here for, her baby. But gods, did it have to hurt so bad?

“Your Grace, the head is crowning. You must push!” Elia didn’t hesitate. She gave one mighty push after another until, finally,  _ finally,  _ a babies wail was heard. 

As soon as she heard her baby cry she broke down in tears. 

“A healthy pair of lungs this one has.” the midwife smiled at Elia as she showed her the baby. It was bloody and pink, but she had never seen a more beautiful sight. “A healthy boy, my lady.” Elia cried again as they went off to clean her and the baby. A boy. A healthy boy. Rhaegar would be so happy. 

“Here you go, sweetheart.” her goodmother leaned down to place her baby in her arms. She stared at him in wonder. He was small, smaller than other newborn babes she had seen, but otherwise his skin was a healthy pink and he had black hair atop his head. His eyes weren’t open, but she hoped he had his father’s eyes. She was so enraptured with her son, she didn’t notice that Rhaegar had entered the rooms until he was seated next to her. She beamed at him as he gazed at their son in wonder.

“She’s beautiful,” he whispered in awe. Elia blinked. Hadn’t they told him it was a boy?

“It’s a boy, Rhaegar.” she told him. His head jerked up in surprise. Elia’s brow furrowed in confusion. Was he not pleased?

“I had thought you would have a girl first.” he explained. She tensed.

“Are you not pleased with your son?” she bit out. Rhaegar’s eyes widened at her tone.

“No! I am very pleased Elia. He is beautiful. I was just…” at this he looked sheepish. Elia sighed and smiled weakly at him. 

“It’s alright Rhaegar, I understand.” she didn’t, but she wasn’t gonna tell him that, “What would you like to name him?” 

“Aegon.” he said without even thinking first. Elia was disappointed at his name, but she decided not to show it. She could name the next one.

“A wonderful name,” she beamed. Rhaegar smiled back.

“I am very pleased, wife. You have given me the promised prince so soon. We will have to celebrate.” She fought to stop herself from rolling her eyes at the mention of the promised prince. Rhaegar had given her a vague explanation on what that meant not long ago, and needless to say, she did not believe in it.

“Yes, husband. I will organize it at soon as I am better.” Rhaegar smiled and kissed her forehead. 

“I will send in the wetnurse. Rest now, sweetheart.” he then kissed their son’s forehead before leaving. Elia frowned. That had not been what she expected.

The Great Hall at Castle Pyke was the liveliest it’s ever been in years. Lords from all over the Isles had come and were now scattered about the hall feasting on fish stews, black bread, onion pies, and ale. In the center of all the hustle and bustle, on the raised dais, was the Greyjoy family, the ruling family of the Iron Islands. 

Balon Greyjoy was in the center, seated on the ancient Seastone chair that Iron Kings had sat on for generations. On his right was his rock wife, Alannys Harlaw, who was holding their youngest son Theon, and next to her their young daughter, Asha. On Balon’s left was his eldest sons Rodrik and Maron and his brothers, Victarion, Aeron, and Euron. 

Unknown to other lord paramount around the kingdoms, this feast was to celebrate the return of the Kings of Salt and Rock, which to them would be considered treasonous. But the people of the Islands were zealous as they listened to their new King address his people with a promise of victory and independence.

“The crown of Ironborn Kings will be worn again and we will pay the price of iron to wear it!” the crowd erupted in cheers as Balon Greyjoy made his speech.

“The dragons of King’s Landing have grown weak! Their heir is sickly and their King is more worried about book and song than ruling! Now is the time to strike! We will destroy their lands and take their women and we will be the kings of rock and salt again!” the crowd roared in approval at Balon’s words. Their praise was like music to Balon’s ears and he felt even better knowing that he had paid the iron price for it.

“We will take what we want, but we will pay the iron price for it, for our way is-”

“The Old Way!” they cried. Balon smiled victoriously.

“We will start in the Westerlands.” he declared. “We will take their gold and pillage their land and we will show the greenlanders that we aren’t weak like them! Who will fight with me!” He stood and unsheathed his sword, holding it above his head proudly. The lords’ in the hall duplicated his actions while the ladies clapped in approval. Even little Theon stood on his mother’s lap and lifted his chubby fist in the air. 

Balon looked around the hall at his people, from the lowliest thrall to the mightiest lord, and his family seated beside him, all in perfect unity, all with the same goal, freedom and glory. His mouth curved into a satisfied smirk.

By the end of the year he would be King in deed as well as name.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jonquil Darke became a sworn shield to Alysanne Targaryen after an assassination attempt against the Queen at Jonquil's Pool in Maidenpool. 
> 
> Lyanna's quote at the end of her POV is an actual quote by Anne Boleyn, written in her book of hours. "The time will come. I, Anne Boleyn."

**Author's Note:**

> I had to alter some dates for plot purposes so in this story Aerys dies in 280AC.
> 
> Next: A royal wedding! Will every go as planned?
> 
> Historical Fact: After the death of her first husband, Catherine of Aragon was kept as a virtual prisoner at Durham House in England. She wasn’t able to marry Henry VIII until his father died in 1509.


End file.
